


Effable

by kbaycolt



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-12 11:07:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19945156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kbaycolt/pseuds/kbaycolt
Summary: AU where Heaven and Hell knew about the body swap.Or in other words, Crowley and Aziraphale are fucked.***All credit for the plot/dialogue/original idea goes to @mis.march on Instagram. Go check out their comic!





	1. Chapter 1

_-In Heaven-_

Gabriel watched patiently as Aziraphale adjusted his tie, looking supremely pleased with himself. He had the same kind of smugness that could never fit right on Aziraphale's face, the sort that deeply unsettled Gabriel. It was unnatural.

So, he wasn't surprised when 'Aziraphale' hummed to himself and said, "well, this has been lovely, but I suppose I should get going-"

"I know it's you, Crowley."

Still watching, Gabriel noticed how Crowley's borrowed face crumpled briefly before fixing itself again, a nervous, meek smile slotting into place. "What, no—I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean—"

"Oh, please." Gabriel tilted his head condescendingly. "Did you honestly think you'd get away with your little body swap?"

The demon only had a moment to look terrified before Gabriel snapped his fingers—a clean, sharp sound—and suddenly Crowley was engulfed in a whirl of white light. The forced transition back into his own body made him stagger forward, and then he was on his hands and knees, eyes wide with shock.

"Don't worry," Gabriel said, predicting that Crowley's next course of action would be to inquire about Aziraphale, "he'll be fine. Though he'll be given a more... suitable punishment. You know..."

Crowley's fingers curled into the floor, his shoulders heaving with ragged gasps.

"... I always thought death was too merciful for a demon." Gabriel lowered himself down onto one knee, so he could look Crowley in the eyes. He tipped Crowley's chin up with three fingers.

Thin, slitted pupils stared at him.

"What are you going to do to him?" Crowley managed to say, still winded from Gabriel's miracle.

"Truthfully? Nothing. You should be more worried about yourself." Removing himself from Crowley and rising to his feet, Gabriel continued, "but then again, your punishment does double as Aziraphale's own. Like a two-for-one deal. So I suppose your concern is warranted. Warranted, and admirable. It would've almost had us pleased, had it not resulted in the failure of the Divine Plan."

The Plan, the Plan, the Plan. Everything was always about the Plan. Gabriel almost wanted to _be_ Crowley, able to ignore the commands of the Almighty with no personal—divine—retribution.

But such thoughts were unbecoming of an archangel.

"Ah, unfortunately, you are a demon," Gabriel told Crowley. "Aziraphale is an angel. He must be reminded of where his loyalties lie. And so do you!"

Crowley flinched at the abrupt inflection in Gabriel's otherwise cold voice.

"After all, what better way to do that than erase your memories?"

Narrowing his eyes, Crowley got one arm under himself, supporting his still-trembling body. His tone was surprisingly firm. "He won't let you get away with this."

Gabriel laughed.

He laughed, but it couldn't be called a laugh, for it was more of a sharp, tonal exhale that rang with disdain. He couldn't remember the last time he'd truly laughed.

"Oh, you poor thing," Gabriel said. He smiled one of his all-business smiles and bent down slightly, so he was towering over Crowley. "I admire your determination, I really do, but we realized that no matter what we do, you two will keep at this charade 'til God knows when and keep interfering with _fate_."

When Gabriel turned around, Crowley pushed himself to his feet.

"Why me?" Crowley demanded.

"Oh, it would be _so_ easy to make Aziraphale forget instead. But you are remarkably persistent, Crowley. You never give up. So even if _he_ doesn't remember, nothing will change. He's too soft. He'll listen to you."

"Aziraphale will—"

"—not give a fuck once he realizes how utterly boring you are," Gabriel cut him off, spinning on his heel to face Crowley again. "You are a toy to him, Crowley. Once he realizes you're no fun, he'll toss you aside with the rest of your lot."

"Aziraphale would never," Crowley insisted, his voice heightening to a near shout.

Gabriel actually did shout, "oh for Heaven's sake, Crowley!" His fraying patience snapped. "Did you honestly think he would've _liked_ you? He only stuck around because you were the only other immortal around—He's an angel, for goodness' sake! Angels don't _like_ demons!"

Breathing out, Gabriel smoothed down his suit, his mouth tightening into a thin line. Crowley's expression faltered.

"And he certainly doesn't like _you_ ," Gabriel said, more calmly this time. "But on the off chance he does... well, I suppose that's his punishment, then."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LITERALLY TEARED UP WHILE WRITING THIS

_-In Hell-_

"You... what?"

Aziraphale's voice softened and died, a sort of deep-rooted fear lodging itself in his chest. He'd been rudely forced back into his own body once the trial was over, and now the dark and grimy room held only the Lord of the Flies and himself inside of it.

"Poor little angel," Beelzebub drawled, her eyes shadowed by the flickering fluorescent lights above. "So lost and confuzzzed." A low buzzing overlapped the 's', making Aziraphale shudder. Her demeanor held the same intimidation as Gabriel's, but while he was crisp and cold, she was warm, hot, burning with her hatred and her eyes alight with sick fury.

"What are you going to do to him?!" Aziraphale demanded. He drew himself up to his full height, squashing down his momentary spike of fear.

"Nothing bad."

"Well—"

"You're familiar with the angels' ability to erazzze memory, yes?"

"What does that have to do with—" Aziraphale froze. A image flashed before his eyes of Crowley, broken and beaten and at Gabriel's mercy. His hand flew to his face, covering his mouth. "Oh no."

"Oh yezzz." Beelzebub mirrored Aziraphale's movements, a sinister grin carving itself onto her face.

"Oh fuck!" Aziraphale cried. He spun on his heel and lunged for the exit, desperately hoping he knew the way out.

"He won't remember, little angel," Beelzebub crooned, her droning voice chasing him as he ran towards the gates of Hell. "Go run to your little boyfriend, angel! He won't remember...."

Her last words, however, were what nearly pushed Aziraphale over the edge.

"... but he'll remember enough."

* * *

_-In Heaven-_

"Any last words before you forget him forever?"

_Forever._

Forever was a long time, in Crowley's opinion. Too long. He'd once pitched a plan to Aziraphale in which he detailed his hatred of eternity.

Aziraphale's eternity would be without him.

"Yeah," Crowley said.

He closed his eyes.

A million more pressing, more anxious thoughts spun wildly in his head, fueled by his imagination that no other demon had, but he crushed all of that beneath a single voice and a pair of beautiful blue eyes.

_Oh, the books! I forgot all the books._

_I'll never get this stain out!_

_The Almighty will fix it._

_We had crepes!_

_Did you go to Alpha Centauri?_

_You go too fast for me, Crowley._

_I forgive you._

Crowley's wings flashed out behind him, the deep black color practically glowing in the light of Heaven.

_I forgive you._

The spark burning inside of him turned into a raging bonfire.

_I forgive you._

Crowley opened his eyes.

"Fuck you."

Gabriel looked into Crowley's fiery yellow glare and wondered where his own fire had gone. Something like respect clawed at him from the inside out, straining his smile into more of a grimace. He reached out and took hold of Crowley's chin once more, but his grip was gentle this time, almost hesitant.

He didn't say any of the things that he wanted to say.

Instead, he said, "good choice."

Crowley's expression softened, his shoulders relaxing and his eyes glazing over. Purple light shone from Gabriel's hands, casting them in an eerie light. Crowley swayed on his feet, dazed.

"There," Gabriel murmured.

The deed was done. Gabriel took hold of any lingering regret and boxed it all away in his mind. Too late.

"That should remedy the damage you and Aziraphale caused."

Crowley blinked several times, struggling to focus on Gabriel. When he finally came to his senses, he jerked his chin away from the archangel, now looking suspicious and bewildered.

"Who?"


	3. Chapter 3

_Crowley blinked several times, struggling to focus on Gabriel. When he finally came to his senses, he jerked his chin away from the archangel, now looking suspicious and bewildered._

_"_ _Who?"_

Straightening, returning to his normal tone, Gabriel started, "I'm sure you have questions—"

But Crowley cut him off. "Pfft, as if I'd listen to an angel," he scoffed, spitting out the word 'angel' like it tasted bad. He touched his face, frowning a bit as he searched for his signature sunglasses.

"I forgot how difficult you are," Gabriel muttered to himself with a scowl. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "But regardless, as an archangel and the Messenger, I'm still obligated to explain your sudden lapse in memory." If his speech was textualized, he imagined that the 'the Messenger' part would be in fancy calligraphy and capitalized.

"Fine, fine, get on with it then." Crowley flapped his hand impatiently.

"An angel named Aziraphale attempted to avert the Apocalypse with you."

Crowley's eyebrows scrunched up as he tried to match a name to a face. "Yes, I... vaguely remember that. Kinda confused why I'd do that actually."

"Maybe if you stopped _interrupting_ ," Gabriel growled, "we'd get there."

"Okay, sheesh, go on."

Meanwhile, on the escalator to Heaven's gates, Aziraphale rushed up the steps two, three at a time, and if he had an actual heart he was sure it'd be pounding. Every second he wasted was another second Crowley was in danger.

At the top, there was a receptionist desk with an angel whose eyes went wide upon seeing him.

"What do you mean you won't let me in?" Aziraphale cried, hands on the desk.

The angel flinched. "I'm sorry, Aziraphale, there's nothing I can—"

"Oh, come on! You can open the gates and let me have at it with Gabriel, for starters." Aziraphale gestured wildly at the looming doors behind him, which clearly read 'Heaven'.

"Aziraphale, there's really nothing I can do!"

His frustration and worry boiled over. If the matter had been any less urgent, he would've dropped it, but this was _Crowley_.

Aziraphale grabbed the angel by her collar and yanked her forward, dragging her over the desk and up to meet his furious stare. She let out a terrified yelp. "Let. Me. In."

* * *

"Well, apparently you had been conspiring with him for years, possibly millennia," Gabriel continued.

Crowley waved his hand over his face, miracling a pair of new sunglasses over his eyes. He adjusted them, looking slightly more pleased, before replying, "and why would I do _that?"_

"We're not sure. At first we assumed it was your doing—But it seems Aziraphale is quite rebellious in his own right. We suspect this was all his doing and he had you wrapped around his finger."

"Wait, an angel? You really think someone on _your_ side is capable of doing that?" Crowley gave a half-grin, almost incredulous.

"Considering everything," Gabriel admitted, "we're not sure what to think."

"No offense, that seems like something you'd expect my side to do."

"Except it's not _your_ side anymore."

"Wait, what's that supposed to mean?"

"You're exiled."

"...what?" Crowley's smile faded. He leaned back a bit, as if distancing himself from Gabriel would change the news. "But... they love me down there... why would they...?"

Confusion and loss radiated off of Crowley in waves, making Gabriel tense up and frown. He looked away. "I'm sorry, Crowley."

At that moment, Aziraphale burst through the doors. "Crowley!" he shouted upon seeing the demon, worry and delight simultaneously present on his face.

Crowley turned around. His face was absolutely heartbroken. "It's you..."

"Yes, it's me!" Aziraphale said hopefully, clasping his hands. Maybe he'd gotten to them in time. Maybe Gabriel hadn't had a chance to do anything. Then, he noticed the tears sliding down Crowley's face, and how badly he was trembling. "What... Crowley? What's wrong?" He tentatively reached out for the demon.

Crowley's expression shifted in an instant from grief to rage. His hand flew up and roughly grabbed Aziraphale's wrist, stopping it from ever touching him. Angry tears slipped from his eyes, narrowed harshly behind his sunglasses.

"You took everything from me!" Crowley snarled.

Now you see, what Gabriel said didn't matter.

Not the words, not the poorly constructed inferences he said to explain what Heaven and Hell believed. No, what mattered was that Crowley lost everything. Not in the way he thought, no.

But he did lose everything.

Aziraphale did, too.

They lost a lifetime—lost a friend, lost the reasons for _why_.

They lost it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woo hoo lemme say that this comic broke me


End file.
